Servant of the Light
by ReprisedLightning
Summary: Altair questions the void within him. Based off of my idea that my friend John wrote. REVIEWS WELCOMED!  and needed


Servant of the Light

I slammed the deadbolt into place just as a an axehead crashed through the door. I turned and began running up the tower staircase, the furious clamor of the guards following me up. I reached the final step and threw open the door, and my eyes were immediately besieged by the blinding light of afternoon. I ran to the edge of the roof and looked down, hoping to see a ledge I could leap to. I warily turned around at the sound of a large number of footsteps. Arrayed before me with a collection of swords and spears was a group of panting guards. "There's nowhere left to run Assassin! This place will be your grave!" one of them yelled at me with a look of resentment and hatred burning behind his eyes. I felt a wave of sadness roll over me. The assassination had gone off perfectly. My master had desired as public a killing as possible and I had delivered, but something was missing. I was proud of my work, the man I had killed had been a well-loved regent, but in secret he had been trafficking citizens into slavery. But would these people care if I told them? Would they ever believe anything bad of their beloved rulers? Probably not. All of this I thought to myself as I stepped backward onto the ledge. "Don't try anything funny now!" one of the guards said, as if he expected me to listen to him. I smiled at him as I leapt back into the sky's embrace.

During those moments is when I truly felt free. Nothing binding me; not Al Mualim, not the Assassins, not my targets, not even the earth. I no longer had to worry about being Altaïr the assassin. During these moments, I could merely float, as a leaf in the breeze. The world settled around me once more as I felt the impact of a bale of hay. The Assassins went to great lengths to ensure a cart of either leaves or hay was positioned near high-priority buildings, and this one had done me a service as many others had. Though many believe the assassins to be a group only capable of death, there were many sections among the assassins that did work such as this. As I dusted hay off of myself, I began putting together my report for once I got back to the Assassin hideout.

I reached the hideout without any trouble and delivered my report by carrier pigeon. I had at least an hour before I would be required to return to the hideout for the night so I decided to go out among the people and see how they were coping with the loss of their regent. Many people believe the Assassins to be all-knowing or possibly to have the ability to read minds. The truth is that the Assassins are merely more in tune with the city then even its citizens. Every word we hear, every emotion seen on the face of a passerby, is something we can use to understand our targets and their effect on the people. What I heard and saw now was both encouraging and disheartening. Just as intended, the people were in chaos without a ruler, but almost every voice was filled contempt for the "vile creature" who could kill such a "golden-hearted" man. I almost wanted to laugh. Here were hundreds of people, any of which might have been taken tomorrow and sold for a coins to line the pockets of that "golden-hearted" man. By the time I had returned to the hideout, I found it impossible to feel anything but contempt for the people of the city. My master, Al Mualim, had arrived to speak with me about my kill and I approached him as he was reading a tome from his private shelves. He placed the book down and focused on me. "Altaïr, you have completed your task perfectly and have returned without a scratch. However, I detect a shadow hanging over your thoughts, speak to me." I repressed a sigh and spoke. "Master, lately I have been taking note of the words of the people. We free them from tyrants yet they hold us to be monsters. How can I be expected to protect people that only treat me as they would a plague?" My master paused to collect his thoughts for a moment and then spoke, "the people do not know what we know Altaïr, nor in most cases can they be made to know. Also, if we wish to be feared as monsters to our targets, how can we appear as such if the common people do not also view us as such?" Though his words did make sense in a fashion, I could not bring myself to fully believe in his words. "I have another assignment for you, so I ask that you clear these thoughts from your head for the time being. Your target this time is in the city of Acre, a man by the name of Genitivi. We know little about his actions and even less about his weaknesses."

"What is his crime?"

"He has attempted to find assassins by holding "trials" for citizens to test if they have the "sorcerous abilities" of an assassin. We both know this is nonsense yet he has already killed a number of people in his search for a true assassin. I wish you luck Altaïr."

I left the hideout without feeling any sort of closure but I was determined to not let it affect me. I reached the city gates and began my journey to Acre. Upon arriving in the city, my first task was to find the assassin outpost. After checking in there I needed to learn about my target, so I wandered the streets, hoping to hear information concerning Genitivi. I heard very little on the subject but I did notice that the citizens had a nervous air to them. Many glanced over their shoulders at regular intervals, as if expecting to be attacked from behind at any moment. After a time, I returned to the roof of the assassin hideout and checked the pigeon coop that was kept there. I was in luck, for several possible leads on information had been found. First was a guard outpost said to contain a map detailing the route Genitivi would take on his "trials". I immediately set out to find if there was any truth to the lead. I arrived at the guardhouse without any delays and watched the building from a bench outside. The difficulty with a mission like this was that I could not spill blood. If any men died protecting a useful source of information, the target would immediately know that he had been compromised and would alter his plans. Thus I waited for a lapse in the watch. The ideal guard will stand unwavering for hours at a time, making sure to never leave his post and to never waver in his duty. At most, a guard typically lasts for about an hour before either falling asleep or sitting down and barely paying attention. This guard was even worse than most, and as he was exchanged for the previous watch, hr almost immediately sat down and began to sleep. A grim smile scarred my face. It's always nice working with incompetents, so long as they aren't mine. I slipped inside without waking the guard and began to inspect the room for the supposed map. A few minutes later my efforts were rewarded as I looked inside one of the drawers of a desk. After quickly memorizing the map and replacing it in the drawer, I once again made my way stealthily out of the building.

Now I knew my targets path, which was more than I needed. Most targets are difficult to kill because they are sequestered in heavily fortified areas with little to no entrances even with excellent free running ability. For a target to follow a set path was like dangling a diamond in front of a beggar, there was no way I could pass up the opportunity. I returned to the hideout to rest and fully equip myself. When I awoke, my fellow apprentice Malik was waiting in the common area. "There you are." He called out upon seeing me. "A package has just arrived for you." He held up a small package. I took it from him and opened it up on the table nearby. As the wrappings came off a metal wrist sheathe was revealed. "A hidden blade?" I asked in confusion. "What purpose does this serve, I already have one and it does not need to be replaced." Malik picked up the sheathe and inspected it. "Aha!" he said. "What is it?"

"It's a modification on the old design. Have you heard of the African tribes that use a poisoned dart to kill?"

"Yes, but doesn't that require a tube to fire it?"

"Normally yes, but it appears that this has a small cartridge of them that can be fired by pressing this switch." I took the blade from him and inspected it. Now that I looked closer, I could see what he was talking about. Next to the hidden blade was a small opening in which I could see a row of darts ready to be launched. Behind them appeared to be some sort of spring mechanism. "But why give me this now?" I asked. Malik put on a thoughtful expression and stood in silence for a while until he spoke. "Perhaps it was intended that you use it on your target today to test its effectiveness." It seemed like as good a reason as any, and it seemed the original hidden blade still functioned just as well, so I replaced my blade with the new one and thanked Malik for the delivery before leaving.

Consulting my mental map, I knew that Genitivi would be near the harbor at this time, so I hurried to the port. Upon arriving, I was met with a cruel parody of a trial. "So you claim to not be an assassin, yet I see nobody standing by your claim of innocence." Genitivi's voice rang out over the crowd. Many of the people clustered there looked as if they very badly wished to leave, but the contingent of guards ringing the perimeter was a great detriment to those plans. From the roof of a nearby building, I had a clear view of Genitivi standing on a makeshift podium surrounded by 4 guards. The podium was situated a few feet away from the dock and Genitivi was addressing some poor wretch that had probably just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It only took me one glance to tell that the man could not have possibly been an assassin. He was merely a beggar with only a few rags to his name. Genitivi himself was a typical military aristocrat. He had finely embellished armor that probably couldn't stop a knife and a demeanor of one who is used to being obeyed. He had short black hair and a short beard. As I stood there studying the situation, Genitivi continued to rant about the many crimes and obvious signs of the man's powers as an assassin. It was somewhat amusing to hear some of the accusations that revealed him as an assassin. I failed to see how "seducing money from an innocent woman" revealed somebody as an assassin, but apparently it was enough for Genitivi. Since a throwing knife would be too inaccurate at this distance, it appeared it was time to test out my new weapon. I carefully took aim at Genitivi and pressed the switch on the hidden blade. A brief clicking noise was the only evidence that something had been fired, but My eyes immediately locked on to the fast moving dart. With a satisfying quiet whoosh of air it struck Genitivi in the neck. He slapped at his neck, as if striking a mosquito, knocking the dart out of his neck and to the ground. I waited for Genitivi to fall to the ground dead but instead he merely wiped his hand on his sleeve and continued the trial. Could the dart have not worked? But as I continued to watch, I noticed that Genitivi was beginning to sweat more and more, and that his speech was beginning to slur. After about a minute, Genitivi suddenly turned to the guard next to him, pulled out his sword and viciously slashed at the man. "Assassin!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Now that he was facing me, I could see that his eyes were rolling around like those of a rabid dog. "Trying to sneak up on me are you! Well you won't get me! You think you can stop me! Silence me! I will not be killed by the likes of you!" As Genitivi yelled this out to his own guards, he had slowly been retreating backwards towards the harbor mouth. My mouth curled into a morbid smile as I realized what was going to take place. "My lord, calm yourself!" One of the guards said in a vain attempt to calm the situation. This only further incited Genitivi, who waved his sword back and forth, forcing the guards to stay back. Genitivi was now mumbling under his breath in a quiet rage "They won't take me. They won't take me." without stopping. His eyes once more lit up with rage and he yelled "You won't take me you dammed assassin!" as he took his fatal step backwards.

With a cry Genitivi stumbled into the waters of the harbor, his heavy armor almost immediately dragging him to the bottom and to his death. I dropped down to the street with a bemused smile hidden underneath my cowl. As I began walking away from the scene, I noticed the beggar still sitting there with a stunned look on his face. "If you want to get away, now would be the time." I said as I passed him. This seemed to snap him out of his daze and he quickly ran off. That void I had been feeling since my last assignment was warmed slightly by that. Though he would never know my name, that man would know that he lived because of me. I looked down in wonder at my new hidden blade. This was a very interesting gift I had received. Not only had it eliminated my target, but it had made him seem insane so as to not draw attention to an attacker. At the very least, it had been an entertaining show. With a small chuckle I returned to the Assassin hideout.

Upon my return, Malik, who had been leaning against the wall, immediately leaped up and went to interrogate me. "How did it work?" he asked with an excited light in his eyes. "It was... Interesting to say the least." I replied. "You'll have to let me borrow it sometime." he said with a grin. "Not likely." I returned the smile. There was something infectious about Malik's moods. Whenever he was having a good time, everybody else was as well; when he was mad, everybody else was in a sour mood too. After I made my report and sent it to Masayf, there was nothing left to do but kill time at the hideout, no pun intended. I decided to practice my work with throwing knives. The Assassin outposts have several catacombs with mock versions of various city streets that could be used for practice in the various assassin arts. To better train the assassins against the motions of a live target, we were encouraged to train together with specially designed weapons that would cover the opponent in paint, assuring that you had hit correctly. The combined cost of the paint and the cleaning was ruinously expensive, but it paid off in well trained assassins. There was always a group ready to go against me in training, I had been singled out early on as a prodigy and it was considered a great achievement to defeat me, even if it was in a group. This was not merely boasting, from the beginning I had been far superior to my fellow assassins. Even some of the senior members had difficulty facing me. Though I did feel pride at my skills, the emptiness that had been gnawing at me had returned. As I went through the drill, I felt hollow, as if I were merely a husk going through the motions an insane puppet master put me through. I finished the exercise with all my opponents down and splattered with paint.

As I left the training area, I was suddenly ambushed by a very out of breath Malik. "What is it?" I asked him. After collecting his breath for a second Malik straightened up and told me that Al Mualim had requested my presence in Masyaf immediately. I said my goodbyes to Malik and took a horse to Masyaf. When I arrived, I was immediately taken to Al Mualim's study. There were two other men there, and I recognized them as the most senior members of the assassin order other than Al Mualim. Al Mualim turned to me and spoke, "I have a very grave matter to discuss with you Altaïr. One of our order has betrayed us, and I wish you to assist with his capture." I was stunned, not only had someone betrayed the assassins but Al Mualim wanted _me_ to track him down. "Why me master?" I asked him.

"This man was one of the senior members of our order, and his skills are beyond what most of the order can handle. The only ones who can possibly handle him would be myself, the two men you see before you, and yourself."

"I am flattered master, but..."

"I will brook no argument on this Altaïr." He said sternly. "Since I am unable to go, I want to have at least three men for this task and the only ones up for the challenge are in this room." I was flattered at how much Al Mualim trusted in my skills, but I was wary that this was some sort of test of my ego. "I am flattered master, but I am but an apprentice."

"No longer."

"Master?"

"Your skills are wasted on apprentice tasks, and if you must stand on ceremony, then I see no reason to put this off." My mind was racing, I had never considered that Al Mualim would seriously promote me to master assassin so soon. "From this day forth, you are a master assassin of the order. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent, hide in plain sight, and never compromise the brotherhood. These are the tenets that rule our order. And now, you must hunt the man who has broken these tenets. We believe him to be in Damascus, I wish all of you luck." With those words I left, a master assassin in the course of five minutes.

We arrived in Damascus the following day, though we had no leads on the traitor. This would be far more difficult than an average assassination. The standard prey of the assassins were men skilled in swordsmanship and surrounded by guards, but well known by the people. This time, we would all be chasing a shadow that was trained to kill as we kill. Instead of feeling dread for the hopelessness of our chase, I felt excited for the challenge. If I were able to catch this man, it would help prove to myself that I deserved my title of master assassin. Yet in the Dark recesses of my heart, I could still feel that gnawing ache that I could not name. We split up during the day and promised to meet up in a secure location. It was impossible to meet at the assassin outpost, because the traitor would no doubt be watching it, so we all agreed to meet in a secluded corner of the city where people seldom went. After a day of searching, we found nothing, not even a whisper. It was immensely frustrating for me, and it made me realize how much easier our tasks were because of the assassin information network. This time, there were no informers, no routes, not even guards. That night I got to know the other assassins better. One was a tall blond man named Lier, and the other was a man of medium height and a permanent scowl whose name was Jowan. We discussed the best possible way to find the traitor when a thought occurred to me. "What is his name?" I asked them. I had realized that although I was pursuing this man, I had never once heard his name or what he had done. There was a moment of silence, as if the others were uncomfortable talking about their old colleague. After a moment Leir spoke up, "His name is Carran."

"What did he do to betray the order?" I asked him. Jowan's scowl turned to a grimace before he spoke up. "There used to be four senior assassins, not including Al Mualim. Fill in the blank." And with a dismissive grunt he turned over and pretended to sleep. "Try not to take it personally Altaïr, Jowan was really close with Aerith. The loss hit him hard." Lier said. "Was she the one who Carran killed?" I asked. Lier nodded and gave a sad sigh. "I had thought we were friends" Lier said with a wistful look in his eyes. "But it seems that I was wrong." His expression turned to one of puzzlement. "It's strange, when he attacked Aerith, he shouted something about how it was "all a lie, every bit of it." "I still don't understand what he meant." Lier said shaking his head. "Get your sleep Altaïr, I will take first watch." I thought that Carran's words sounded like the ravings of a madman, but I did not wish to insult Lier, so I obliged his request and went to bed.

Another day went by without any sort of luck, the only reason we remained in Damascus was because there had been an assassin posted at each of the entrances to the city, each given a description of Carran. If he left the city, we would know, either from a letter or from a corpse. But on the third day, the goddess of victory smiled on us. As we were moving through the city together, we caught sight of a figure leaping over the rooftops. As soon as we noticed him we immediately set off in pursuit. As we began closing the distance, he took notice of us and rapidly increased his pace. As we all hit the rooftop an archer on the rooftop shouted out to us, "Stop you vagrants!" A well thrown throwing knife silenced him as we continued chasing after Carran. Suddenly Carran stopped and slid down the side of the building to reach the street. Lier copied Carran's move and kept up the pursuit at full speed. I was not quite that agile, so I jumped down from the trail of posts and lantern holders and attempted to hurry after the two. As I reached the bottom, I heard a shout behind me. I turned my head to look only in time to see Jowan misplace his foot on a beam and fall down in front of a group of approaching guards. "Go!" he yelled, pulling his sword out. "I'll catch up!" With a quick nod I turned forward and began racing off in the direction Lier and Carran had gone. As I ran through the street, I was met by a trail of dead people. I was horrified because this meant that Carran had violated the first tenet of the brotherhood. I heard the sound of fighting coming from nearby. I sought out the source and found an old warehouse with the door ajar. I rushed in to see Lier and Carran engaging each other in a sword fight. As I crossed the threshold, Lier made a misstep, and Carran immediately deflected Lier's blade and stabbed him through the chest. Carran pulled the blade out and cleaned it on Lier's robes. Lier fell to the ground gasping for air as he looked up at the two of us.

Carran turned to me and I felt fear. Not fear that my swordsmanship would not be able to defend me, but fear at the look in Carran's eyes. I have seen the rage of a murdered man, the hopelessness of somebody who has run out of places to flee to, and the hollowness of one who has accepted that they are going to die, but I have never seen the look that was in Carran's eyes. There was a cold rage in his eyes, not the indignation of the dammed, but contempt for somebody's very being. "So you are the next to challenge me?" he said in a voice filled with sarcasm. I was frightened, and I knew that my best chance was to stall for time until Jowan could come and assist me. "Why did you kill those people outside, they were innocent?" I asked. "Innocent? More like ignorant!" Carran laughed. "They harmed no one, they were uninvolved in this conflict." I argued. Carran gave a bitter laugh, "uninvolved. Yes, that would be the right word, all those dammed people out there are uninvolved with everything we do." "Especially when we free them from tyrants!" he snarled. "Why should I care about the lives of people who would rather lose them to the men we free them from than thank us?" Carran's words struck me and I was in shock. That empty void that had been filling me for so long was now glaringly obvious. Though I wanted to hate Carran, I couldn't help but find myself agreeing with everything he was saying. It was as if a searchlight had been cast on me, revealing all the dark feelings I had been hiding within myself. "But that isn't the worst part." Carran continued. "The worst is that dammed Al Mualim."

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion. "It doesn't matter." Carran said, seeming to come back to the moment. "You will die here, and your corpse will rot in the shadowy corner we were spawned from." And with that, a sudden epiphany occurred to me. Peace settled over me like a shroud, and I knew how I could beat Carran. The harsh afternoon light was filtering in through the door behind me, and my eyes were closer to being accustomed to the dark. With a slow but purposeful gesture, I shut the door behind me, sealing the light off from the room. This warehouse would be either his tomb, or mine.

"Fighting me in the dark are you! You think this will give you an advantage?" Carran shouted. Carran felt a prick in his neck and slapped the mosquito off. "Dammed insects." He mumbled. "Where are you!" he shouted. "You have betrayed your brothers." Carran swung out at the voice and met nothing. "You have revealed yourself to an enemy." Carran swung again, only to strike once more at nothing. "And you have shed the blood of the innocent." Carran swung out one more time, and felt his sword deflected out of his grip. "Damm you! Show yourself!" He yelled. "Nothing is true, everything is permitted." Carran's rage began to course out of him. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"We work in darkness.." Carran felt a blade press up against his throat from behind. "To serve the light." Altaïr finished.

Carran sat panting on his knees, knowing he could not escape. "Kill me." he said bitterly. "Finish it."

"I killed you two minutes ago with that dart in your neck." I said as I retracted my blade and walked away. Carran's eyes bulged as realization settled over him. Then he began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. As I walked away the laughter slowly faded into nothing. In a way, I was thankful to Carran, he had shown me how to fill the void. An assassins duty is not to save the people from their tyrants. An assassin is a shadow that changes the world with a death. A shadow has no identity, no past, and no life to take. An assassin is a blade in a crowd, never part of the crowd but always in it. With peace in my heart I opened the door and walked away.


End file.
